


Fractured Eternity

by A_Field_of_Starlight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Field_of_Starlight/pseuds/A_Field_of_Starlight
Summary: When America fell at the end of the war, a new world order emerged. Improved relations encompassed the West as nations recovered and rebuilt, more united than ever. And at the head of it all was the new superpower, Canada. But peace and prosperity can only last so long. Somehow, somewhere, the truth will always emerge. And when it does...Intended as an archive. Original work foundhere.





	Fractured Eternity

Title: **Fractured Eternity**  
Category: Anime/Manga » Hetalia - Axis Powers  
Author: A Field of Starlight  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Angst/Tragedy  
Published: 12-10-13, Updated: 12-06-14  
Chapters: 10, Words: 11,755

* * *

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

* * *

Author's Note: So, I've actually been toying around with this idea for a while, I've just been forcing myself not to start too many things... Gah, too many plot bunnies! IT'S AN INVASION! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

That being said, I'm going to try to change my habits for this story. For anyone that has read anything else of mine, you probably know that I enjoy Author's Notes. I use them WAY too much. So I'll try not to do any this time, except for some historical notes or explanations of references.

That being said, I have to say everything here, so bear with me. :)

Main Characters: America, with Canada as narrator. America... doesn't actually do anything in the main timeline of the story, though. He's mainly in flashbacks and Canada's thoughts.

Pairings: NO. NO PAIRINGS! PAIRINGS ARE EVIL AND WILL EAT YOUR FACE OFF! XD But no, seriously. The only pairings I ship are Chibitalia/HRE (because it's kinda hard NOT to ship them... considering it's a major plot point in the Chibitalia arc and all...) and a little bit of SuFin, since it's semi-canon. Neither of which will appear in this story.

Projected length: I actually have no idea... It could be anywhere from 4 chapters to 10. I really don't know.

Warnings: Angst, depression (I think...? Not sure if it counts...), character death, excessive use of flashbacks and contemplation, et cetera.

OK. So, that's out of the way. Yay. Now for what inspired this.

There's actually a lot of things that went into the inspiration. For example, many, many stories about either America or Canada or both either dying or killing each other or committing suicide or going insane and destroying the world, and depressing AMVs on Youtube. Also after idea was formed, stuff popped up such as a certain Hetalia-Vocaloid crossover thingy called "Aku no Maple" (GO WATCH IT! _NOW!_ Just type in the name, it'll pop up), and other Vocaloid music. And current events, kinda.

Also, don't be surprised if my update schedule is super erratic. High school is stressful.

OK! Almost 400 word A/N over! Now go read the story!

* * *

_**Begin  
** _

* * *

**_Prologue_ **

* * *

"Brother... How could you?"

"Please understand..."

"Please! Stop it!"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"..."

"Tell me!"

"I... "

"WHY?!"

"I'm... sorry..."

"No you're no- ah-..."

"... But I am."

And he broke down into sobs.

* * *

*cough* *cough* "Heh heh... life is ironic, isn't it?"

"What we have is not life. We cannot die naturally, therefore we cannot really live."

"That's not what you thought _then_."

"You do not know what I was thinking then."

"But I do. We are brothers."

"We stopped being brothers when you killed me."

"And yet, by your own argument, we cannot die, therefore I could not have killed you."

"But I can kill you."

"Permanently?"

"Yes."

"Then go ahead."

"I'm not going to."

"Why? It's fitting revenge. And you won. You have every right to do as you wish. History, after all, is written by the victors."

"Because it is too easy a way out."

"... Hah. So you would leave me to suffer?"

"Yes."

"... You know me so well."

"Of course. As you said, we are brothers."

"Heh. Heh heh... Hahahaha- hu-..."

"Goodnight, brother."

And he, too, fell to his knees and wept.

* * *

_End Prologue_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Chapter 1**

* * *

_**Chapter One** _

* * *

_Part One  
_

* * *

_WAR OF THE WEST ENDS!_

_THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA FALLS!_

_USA is dissolved after war!_

_Canada to claim what was once northern US  
_

_New 'Republic of America' formed by joint European and Mexican initiative_

Headlines screamed down at him from hundreds of different places as Canada exited the hospital. Newspapers, digital billboards, people's mobile devices... Everyone was fixated on the end of the war.

And Canada was, too.

* * *

_"This has gone too far, America!"_

_"England? What do you mean?"_

_"America, you can't just force us to stop our military advancement!"_

_"But it's the only way I can keep you protected, Germany!"_

_"We can protect ourselves, America."_

_"Don't you get into this too, France. My threat still stands."_

_"You can't be the world's police, da?"_

_"Russia, do you know how hypocritical you're being?"_

_"He isn't. Go ahead, brother, do your worst. We can take it."_

_"I will then, brother dear. Oh, I will."_

* * *

Canada lifted his face toward the sky. Now that the war was over, now that everything was over ( _forever..._ his mind whispered, but he ignored it), he could finally ask the question that had always haunted him, during those blood-filled years.

"Why? Why did you push us to this? I thought we promised..."

* * *

_\- Early Spring, 1815 -  
_

_"I'm so sorry, Canada... So sorry..."_

_"America..."_

_"I promise, I'll never hurt you again. Ever."_

_"Ame-"_

_"Please, Canada! Don't you understand?"_

_It was then that Canada noticed. The grief evident in his brother's eyes, the pain of the war, but most of all, that sense of being lost, that frantic searching for something without knowing what...  
_

_"America..."  
_

_The brothers crumbled into each others' arms, tears streaming down their faces, as together they cried for their lost childhood._

_"I... I promise too. I'll never hurt you, brother."_

_Oh, how wrong he was to be. How wrong they both were._

* * *

Shaking his head, Canada quickly pulled himself out of his memory. It was useless to think about it. What was done was done, and there was nothing anyone would, or could, do about it.

Because, in the end, America had only been trying to protect everyone.

But he didn't realize the world had no need for his protection.

And he had paid dearly for it.

* * *

_Intermission: The War, Beginning  
_

* * *

The declaration of war hadn't gone over well.

Then again, when had war _ever_ gone over well? 1812 was still burned deeply in the North American people's subconsciousness. Though the facts had blurred with the passage of time, the feelings of intense patriotism, pride, and hate were still the same.

Canada walked through the street with a burning anger in his heart, and around him, surrounding him, _inside_ of him, his citizens were the same.

The continent was going to war. Of course, the northern brother's government had long since suspected something was wrong. After all, the United States does not simply evacuate all citizens from the US-Canada border without Canada suspecting something. But there had been no official intelligence as to what was happening, and it would have been a huge political faux pas to call the strongest military power on Earth out on some small scare...

But it wasn't a small scare. Oh, no. Not at all.

It was worse than anyone could have predicted.

Sure, relations between the two countries that were once so close had frozen to the point where normal diplomatic relations simply could not go on any longer. Sure, the nation representatives hadn't spoken to each other in nearly half a century. Sure, even in the south, Mexico and the Central American nations were rallying up. But no one had really expected _this_.

"Ah!" Canada winced as another small jab of pain shot up his side. A woman standing nearby asked him if he was alright.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Canada quickly hurried on his way.

_The sooner I get to the base, the better. It's time to stop my brother, once and for all_.

* * *

It was ironic how their first meeting in fifty years was on a battlefield.

A twisted smile formed on his twin's lips. "Heya, Mattie."

Canada mirrored the expression. "Hello, Al."

A hand parted the air, tracing out the scope of the battlefield. "So. How do you like it? I made it especially for you."

"I love it, Al. I'm truly honored."

Suddenly, Canada found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle. But that was OK; his own was aimed straight at America.

The twins' smiles were identical, hurt and anger and betrayal and insanity leeching out into the air around them.

"Looks like we're still on the same wavelength, even after this long, eh?"

"Looks like it."

"So what now?"

America shrugged. "Your call."

"Hm." Canada tilted his head, as if thinking. "I know! How about you surrender?"

"Nope. Not gonna happen. Anything but that."

"Well, I guess we're both dying today."

"As I said. Your call."

Two shots went off, and the bodies hit the ground together.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

The first world meeting after... well, just after.

The room seemed strange, empty, without the tensions of fighting sides that had so recently dominated the world... or the obnoxious laughter and unrealistic ambitions of a certain nation.

As Germany opened the meeting, Canada watched the faces of the others. Expressions ranging from sadness and hurt to anger and denial were mixed into an overlying palette of grim determination.

"... The world will recover from this war that Ame-... That has just ended. It is up to use to figure out how. And that is the topic on the table. Anyone wishing to speak?"

_Interesting,_ Canada thought as he listened to and participated in all the speeches, the proposals, the debates. _No one wants to say his name._

_Including me._

Why was that? Did they perhaps feel guilty? But there was nothing to feel guilty for. After all, they hadn't _killed_ America. He was just... They had just...

* * *

_"You have been found guilty by the tribunal... are to be punished... country dissolved..."_

_The entire time, Canada never spared a glance at the human official reading off his brother's fate. His eyes were locked onto his brother's._

_It was amazing, how much hurt and betrayal and_ acceptance _was present in those normally bright, happy eyes. America's expression did not change; it was frozen in neutral, a skill he had learned - they had all learned, through their unnaturally long existences - but rarely ever used. Yet his eyes... Canada set his mouth in a line. He had made the right decision, he was sure of it. He would keep his promise, the promise he had already broken. He wouldn't let anything, ever again, hurt his dear brother._

_After that day, though, such pain would never swirl in those clear blue eyes again._

* * *

_"America."_

_"England? What are you doing here?" America's voice was dull, tired. "I thought I was going to be taken away?"  
_

_"You are. I came to tell you that Canada will be succeeding you."_

_"What?"_

_"Canada is the superpower now."_

_A rustling sound, and Canada assumed from his spot behind the door that America had turned. "Canada is what? B-But-"_

_I"America, you surely can't expect there not to be a world superpower. t's not possible. And Canada is the best candidate-"_

_"NO!"_

_England fell silent. Then-_

_"America, stop being selfish."_

_"No, England, can't you remember? Don't you remember what it was like? How could you let Canada-"_

_"Am_ _érique, this is not up for discussion," France suddenly spoke up. "If you did not want Canada to become the world's superpower, then you should not have declared war on the world."_

_Canada heard another rustling noise, then a yelp.  
_

_"AMERICA!"  
_

_England's voice._

_"STOP IT THIS INSTANT! Canada WILL become the new world superpower, and you will not protest it! You have no power left to protest it."_

_Quietly, Canada pushed open the door to join his family. America looked up at him with teary eyes._

_"No... Mattie... please... Don't do it..."_

_"Don't do it, Al? You can't tell me what to do."_

_The once-strong nation crumpled to the ground as his brother walked out calmly._

* * *

"... Canada?"

"I'm sorry, yes?" Canada said, jerking out of his reverie.

"I asked if you were going to lend funds to help with the rebuilding."

The nations around the table all looked at him expectantly. He really didn't have money for this, they would be better off asking the Asian nations, who had kept out of the war. But...

"Yes, of course."

It was the least he could do to help the world. After all, that was his responsibility now.

A responsibility that would, though he did not know it, change his world in ways no one could have predicted.

* * *

_End Chapter One_

* * *

Note: "Early Spring, 1815" refers to the War of 1812. The Treaty of Ghent was signed on December 24th, 1814 in Ghent, Belgium. It was ratified in England 3 days later, and almost immediately when it reached the US in February 1815, thus ending the war.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Chapter 2**

* * *

_**Chapter Two** _

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

"Mr. Williams? Your coffee."

Canada looked up from his papers, startled. "Oh. Thank you..."

The waitress smiled at him benevolently, then asked if there was anything else she could get him.

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Well, if you do decide that you want something, do tell me." With that, she left.

Canada took a sip of the hot brown liquid in front of him, and sighed. He really didn't want to be here, but... his boss had insisted that the nation be there in person while the arrangements were made. He sighed again, rereading the report he had been given.

"Really, all we're doing is reorganizing the _already existing_ local governments. We're not even doing a complete overhaul of the staff until next elections. It's not such a big deal," he grumbled to Kumajirou, finishing off his coffee.

"But you are changing it," Kumajirou responded.

"Amer- I mean, the former US's policies aren't- well, weren't- _that_ different from ours, Kuma. We're just giving it a different organizational style."

The bear seemed to ponder this for a moment. Then he spoke up again. "You're going to be late."

Canada looked at his watch. Kumajirou was right. He quickly paid for his drink, gathered his things, and left the small cafe.

Stepping out onto the streets of New York City was not something Canada hadn't done before. But it was still new, completely different from anything he had ever experienced. And for a centuries-old nation, "new" was not something that happened very often.

And yet, however much he tried to convince himself that his brother deserved it, that the city was now his, that he _shouldn't feel this sense of strangeness_ , he couldn't. This land was once one of his brother's most influential areas, this city that was once - and still was, really - so undeniably _America_ _n_... It felt so _wrong_ for his body to call it home.

And yet, it was. The new international border, drawn from the Pacific coast at the 41st parallel until it reached the Mississippi River, then following the course of the river down to meet with parallel 36.5 and running until it reached the Atlantic coastline, clearly delineated this city, and many, many others, as his. He just couldn't get rid of that feeling of wrongness. His mind, his logic, his sense as a nation, all told him that this land was _his_. Yet his instinct, developed over all the centuries since his birth, could not fathom it to be true. _New York is America's_ , it screamed at him. _Stop saying it's yours!_

Canada sighed in frustration, hurrying toward the building he was to meet the local government authorities in. _At least I don't have to travel far to get to the next world conference_ , he thought as he passed the UN building. _That's one good thing, I suppose._

One good thing... but so many more bad.

* * *

_Intermission: The War, Early Days_

* * *

"Sir, the colonel told me to tell you inform you that the most recent battle has been won. Here are the official reports."

Canada looked up from his computer. "Ah, yes. Thank you for the information."

The soldier in the doorway handed over the papers wordlessly, and left as soon as Canada dismissed him. The nation smiled wryly. He knew what the man had been thinking. How was he, a young man who appeared to be only 19, deserving of such respect? After all, he was only a low-level officer.

Canada shook his head in amusement, and picked up the packet of papers again. "It seems like we've won temporarily, eh, Kumakiga?"

"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked, crawling out for under his master's desk.

"I'm Canada," replied the nation, turning the pages of the report. "Let's see... Some troop movement descriptions, a few cost sheets, casualties, request for a go-ahead to attack..." He flipped some more pages, and suddenly drew in a sharp breath.

Kumajirou looked at his owner questioningly.

"It's... nothing..." Canada said, his brow furrowing. "Just... surprising, that's all."

But even though he put on a brave face for his pet, inside, Canada's emotions were in turmoil. The circumstances of this victory... were almost exactly the same as one in 1812.

All he could hope for was that this war would end quickly, and not turn into another pointless campaign for nothing.

But hope... Canada knew never to rely on hope.

He picked up his pen and gave the go-ahead for the strike.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

Another world conference.

Canada hadn't noticed how unbearable these things were, though ever since he'd become a nation, he'd been going to them. Even before he'd gained independence, England would sometimes take him to them, supposedly to help him learn the workings of international relations, but in reality, it was to show him off as proof of the British Empire's strength. Not that Canada minded that. After all, it _was_ the only way for him to learn to manage his own affairs.

But he was much more sensitive to the arguments now. After all, he had to lead, and it was near impossible to do so with every person having their own distinct, seemingly unshakable opinions and arguing just for the sake of arguing.

Canada wanted to scream at them all.

At least they listened to him now, when he offered his advice. Sure, they would grumble and whine, and mutter under their breath, but at least it was better than before...

* * *

_"Dude, I think the world conference can convene! Now, about that whole using global warming to enslave humanity thing-"_

_"America, please don't start this again," Canada said, but his twin didn't hear._

_"I think we'll be OK if we genetically engineer a huge superhero to protect the earth!"_

_"America! Please!"_

_"I give you, the SUPERHERO GLOBAL-MAN!"  
_

_"Oh, maple..."_

_Canada could only watch as the meeting degenerated into chaos._

* * *

"CANADA!"

"Ah! What?" Canada jerked upright, looking around for the source of the voice. His eyes soon settled on Germany.

"I said, do you have anything to add to this topic?"

"Ah, uh..." _What is it we were talking about again?_

A piece of paper hit his hand, and he looked down. In England's handwriting were the words "Weapons Disarmament".

"Oh, yes. Yes, I do." As he got up to speak, he shot a grateful glance toward his former mentor and colonizer. But the older nation was completely avoiding his gaze, instead fiddling with his teacup as Germany sat down and gave Canada the floor.

_Better not to think about it._

"Ahem. According to statistics gathered by..."

And that was that.

* * *

_End Chapter Two  
_

* * *

Note: America's lines in the flashback in part two is a paraphrase of the English dub version of Episode 1, Season 1 (Hetalia: Axis Powers).

* * *

**Chapter 4: Chapter 3**

* * *

_**Chapter Three  
** _

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

"Hello, Alfred."

Canada pulled out a chair and quietly sat down, gazing at his twin's face. With his eyes closed and his hair growing out slightly, Canada mused, no one would really be able to tell anymore that it was not himself lying there.

"How have you been?"

Silence.

But Canada expected that. After all, it was hard to speak while in a medically induced coma.

"It's... peaceful, now. I guess I should thank you for that. I mean, there's still the occasional squabble and fight, but we're more willing to forget. You should be here to see it. But I guess I can't let you do that."

Canada fell quiet again. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and watched his brother's chest rise and fall in a gentle, steady rhythm under the sheets.

He sighed. "But that's beside the point. I came to tell you that we don't hate you, Alfred. None of us do. Though we may have acted like it during the war, well... Even France and England didn't truly hate each other through the many wars they've been through. So stop beating yourself up for hurting us in the war. It's not all your fault. When the people do things, you have no control. Such is the life of us nations."

Canada gave a bitter little laugh, and silence surrounded the twins once more, only broken by the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

"I... I suppose I'm the one being hypocritical now, aren't I? I tell you not to blame yourself for starting the war, and yet here I am, here we are, punishing you for it. And I don't even know if you can hear me, or if you're awake in there, somewhere."

He sighed. "Do you know, Alfred, that your image now is almost exactly the same as that of the Third Reich? Detested, shunned... But we gave Germany another chance. I don't know why we don't let you. Maybe you really did start the war of your own accord. But I guess I'll never know, will I?"

Canada stood up, shaking his head sadly. "Goodbye, brother. Until next time."

With that, he left the room.

He didn't know how wrong - and how right - he was.

* * *

_Intermission: The War, Expansion  
_

* * *

"Sir, there's an... ambassador... come to see you."

"Send him in."

Canada sighed, mentally preparing himself to deal with another useless conference with one of his brother's politicians. _This is a waste of time,_ Canada thought. _He knows I will not give in, no matter how much territory he's taking, or how badly I'm faring. Why can't he just stay away?  
_

There was a knock on the door, and Canada immediately straightened up. "Come in."

He put on a calm, neutral expression, but it quickly slipped away as he saw the figure in the doorway. Instead of the well-dressed, briefcase toting, political rhetoric spewing American ambassador he had expected to see, there, dressed in military fatigues, his hair stuffed under a cap, arms crossed, Union Jack proudly displayed on his shoulder... stood England.

The older nation smiled a bit as his former colony quickly hid his surprise behind another mask of indifference.

"Yes?"

"Surprised to see me, Canada?"

Canada paused for a moment. "You remembered my name."

"Well, yes, I suppose I did. Why are you so surprised? I've been working on it for a while."

"Only because France pestered you to. But that's not what you came for, is it, _Ambassador_?" Canada said in a scathing tone.

England stepped back. "Ah... yes."

He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. "I've come to formally offer Canada the assistance of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland in its war against the United States of America. I also come as a proxy for the Commonwealth of Australia, as well as New Zealand, to offer their support. The Republic of France has also entrusted me with this letter, to be given directly to either you or the Prime Minister of Canada."

Canada accepted the letter from England, and tore it open, reading quickly. It was another offer of alliance.

He set down the letter, staring at England for a while.

Suddenly, he asked, "Why now?"

"Pardon?"

"Why are you helping me now?"

England frowned. "Canada, we are family. Why wouldn't we help?"

"This was has been going on for two years already!" Canada finally exploded. "Where were you then, when it started? I have been loyal to you even when _America_ ," Canada practically spit out the name, "urged me to abandon you, offering me a better, a _freer_ , life. But did I go? NO! I have always jumped in to help you whenever you needed me to, without question or hesitation! During the first world war, you didn't even ask me! But I went along with it without protest. And during the second, I declared war just _hours_ after you! _Hours!_ I dedicated myself immediately to helping protect you. Where were you when I needed you most?"

"Canada, I-"

"And don't even get me started on France. Oh, France. He abandoned me in order to keep a few profitable sugar-producing islands, after losing a war that I was too young to even _understand_! But wait! You know that story already! In fact, if I remember correctly, it was YOU that forced France to choose. And he didn't choose me. Yet I've still saved him many times over! And now, NOW, he comes, expecting me to be grateful and accept his assistance, even when he completely ignored me for two years?"

"Canada, please-"

"No, England. Perhaps when America starts bombing _your_ shores, attacking _your_ people, invading _your_ land, then I will reconsider. But not before. Goodbye, England."

And suddenly, the older nation found himself outside the room, the door shutting in his face. "But... Canada... that's what I came to tell you... America is expanding his sights..."

On the other side of the door, Canada slid down the wall, tears running down his face.

"I can't do this anymore..."

A few weeks later, those who had offered their assistance, and many other European countries, officially joined the war.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

"Are their any other points that need to be addressed?" Germany looked around the table. "Yes, England?"

"Where is the personification of the Republic of America?"

Sharp intakes of breath were heard across the meeting room. None of them had dared touch that topic yet. It was too recent, too fresh in their memories.

"Its government is new, yes, but stable, and its citizens are already beginning to identify themselves as Republicans. A personification should have emerged by now."

"Are we sure that the... previous personification... is not the personification of the ROA?" China pointed out.

"No, he's not." All eyes turned to Canada. "I have been informed of his current condition, and I see no indication of him becoming the ROA's representative."

Spain frowned. "How do you know this for sure, Canada?"

"If he were the new nation, he would have easily woken up. And he hasn't," Canada explained simply.

"Well, Canada-san, have you seen anything out of the ordinary lately?" Japan asked. "If the previous personification is not the personification of the new nation, there should be indications of a new personification emerging. As the ROA's closest neighbor to the north, you are in a position to witness such indications."

"I'm sorry, Japan, but I have not seen anything."

Everyone traded glances with each other.

Finally, Germany sighed. "Canada, please inform us immediately if you see anything."

Canada inclined his head. "Of course."

"There are no points or motions on the table at this time. Is there a motion to adjourn?"

"Motion to adjourn meeting," Italy said.

"Poland seconds that motion," Poland immediately followed with.

Germany sighed again. "Do I even need to put this up to vote?"

Everyone shook their heads no, eager to get out of the room.

"Meeting adjourned."

* * *

_End Chapter 3_

* * *

Note: Canada's statements regarding colonial North America and the World Wars may or may not be accurate. I do not claim to know anything about the general attitude of the Canadian public towards these events, but I have tried to keep the actual historical facts accurate.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Chapter 4**

* * *

_**Chapter Four** _

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

The door creaked open, and a lone figure slipped into the room. Sitting down on the bed, he stripped off his tie and suit jacket, kicking off his shoes sometime along the way, and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. Then he flopped back onto the bed with a relieved sigh.

"Mmmm... It's nice to be home, eh, Kuma?"

"... I'm hungry."

Canada chuckled, lazily hoisting himself up onto his elbows. "Didn't I leave some food in the kitchen for you?"

"I _ate_ it. I'm still hungry."

With a grin, the northern nation got up. "Well, come on, then. I'll get you some more. I have to go to the hospital today anyways."

Kumajirou jumped off his owner's bed and into his arms. "Again?"

"Why? Are you jealous that I don't spend enough time with you?" Canada teased, tapping the bear's nose.

"But you're sad when you get back."

The smile on Canada's face fell slightly, but quickly returned full force as he opened the fridge to retrieve some more fish. "I don't want to leave him alone, now, do I? After all, my country is known for being polite."

Kumajirou did not deign to respond to that, simply jumping down and setting to work on his meal.

Canada shook his head and grabbed himself a soft drink. "Oh, Kuma... What shall I do with you?"

Kumajirou paused in his eating for just a moment, tilting his head. "I thought you were leaving."

Shaking his head again, Canada grabbed his keys. "I'll be back in about an hour, so behave."

"I'm eating."

"Good point. Keep doing that."

A few minutes later, Canada was at the hospital. _It's a good thing it's so close_ , he thought to himself. _But then again... I guess..._

* * *

_"Canada... why would you want that?"  
_

_"Want what?"_

_"You know... for... Alfred... to be placed in a hospital extremely near you."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Don't you want to forget all of this? This war?"_

_"England, completely ignoring him isn't going to make it go away."_

_"So you go to the other extreme, and keep him as close as possible? At least let us set up a rotation schedule for taking care of him."_

_"May I remind you, England, that I am the one with power here. I shall do as I please."_

_"Canada... Please..."_

_"No. I'm sorry, England. This is something I must do."_

_"Why?"_

_The question was simple; the answer, infinitely less so._

_Canada did not answer._

* * *

"Hey, Alfred. I'm back to see you again. How long has it been? A few weeks?"

Canada tilted his head. "Sorry about that. I've been really busy. But I guess it's worth it, to have everyone notice me now."

A few seconds passed.

"The doctor tells me you're in stable condition, and that nothing has changed. You're still seemingly immortal, but still unconnected to any nation."

Another pause.

"Alfred... last world meeting, it was brought up that the personification of the Republic of America still hasn't emerged. If you aren't him... then who is? I wish you could talk to me now. I feel like you would know. But... I can't..."

Canada sighed, lapsing into silence again. The room was completely quiet for a long time, as the nation sat there, gazing at his fallen brother, and just thinking.

Finally, he stood up. "I'm sorry, Alfred, I have to leave now. Stay well."

* * *

_Intermission: The War, European Theatre_

* * *

Canada jerked awake when he heard the first scream.

"England?"

Another cry.

"England!"

The North American nation burst out of his room, running for the stairs. But before he could reach them, something hit him - _hard_.

"C-Canada! What's wrong with England?"

Looking up, he found the fear-filled face of Australia looming above him.

"I... I don't know. I think... he's been attacked..."

Australia paled. "Kiwi! Get India!"

New Zealand didn't respond, merely running to retrieve the Southern Asian nation as Canada and Australia rushed toward their eldest brother's room.

"England!"

England looked up with tear filled eyes, coughing hoarsely. "... Australia... Canada... AAAAHH!"

But when the younger nations rushed forwards to help, he waved them away. "I'm... fine..."

Australia frowned in fear. "No you're not, England! Let me-"

"Canada," England suddenly said, his eyes wide with fear, stopping the Oceanic nation mid-sentence.

"Yes, England?"

"... F-France..."

Then he collapsed.

"England!" Australia quickly caught the nation. He glanced at his older brother. "Go, Canada. I can handle it here. I've got Kiwi and India, and the rest of the Commonwealth is supposed to be arriving this morning."

It went unspoken that with the current situation in the UK, the rest of the Commonwealth would likely be severely delayed.

Canada nodded, gulping, then hurried out the door.

On the stairs, he was intercepted by a frantic India, something he had never seen before. "What's wrong with Mr. England? Canada, tell me!"

"He... He just... collapsed..."

India's eyes widened, and he let out a few curses. Abandoning the younger nation, he ran up the stairs, trailed by a worried New Zealand.

"England... Is he...?"

"He'll... He'll be fine. Australia's with him." New Zealand nodded, then followed India up towards England's room.

Canada looked up toward his family for a moment, then turned his back on them. _They can manage. I have to get to France..._

Within a heartbeat, it seemed, though in reality it was much longer, he was at the door to France's countryside home. The door was opened by a panicked, shaking Monaco.

"Canada! France- Il est- room- Seychelles- help- et je ne sais- doesn't work- communications down-"

"Monaco. Calmez-vous. I can't understand a word you're saying!"

Monaco took a deep, shaky breath. "Canada... France... He's been screaming... nothing Seychelles or I can do will calm him... We've lost connection to his boss and mine, and Seychelles's boss doesn't know anything... I've never seen him like this!"

"France has been screaming? Since when?"

"Since..." Monaco thought for a moment. "About an hour ago."

Canada cursed under his breath. "Must be the same attack..."

Monaco looked up fearfully. "Same attack?"

Canada nodded. "It must be. I'm afraid America has begun his conquest of Europe."

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

They didn't seem to realize that he heard their every word. They didn't seem to know that he was always there, watching, listening, remembering.

_Was this why...?_

It hurt, to know how they all thought of him, how they regarded him as their only path toward safety, yet despised him all the same. Of course, they never showed it to his face. But oh, he knew.

_He knew._

It was surprising, really, how quickly opinions of him had soured. How a small, previously inconsequential problem could now so _quickly_ evolve into a large scale international diplomatic conflict. Every day, now, he had to tread so carefully, to keep almost everything within himself, to analyze and reanalyze over and over again the things he said before he dared let even the slightest inkling of it show...

_He had to be forever on guard.  
_

Canada was tired. Tired of this endless dance of politics, of maneuvering delicately around the worst problems without really solving them, without real action, and yet still having to find solutions, still having to keep the world in motion, working... How had he not noticed this before?

_But he had always known._

Yes. He had always known. He had never noticed, but he had always _known_. How could he have been so... so... blind?

Being the world superpower wasn't all it was chalked up to be.

But Canada? He realized a bit...

_Too... late..._

* * *

_End Chapter 4_

* * *

Note: The Commonwealth of Nations - formerly the British Commonwealth, commonly referred to as the Commonwealth, a supranational organization involving 53 member-states, developed during decolonization, formally established in 1949. Prominent members (in terms of economy): the UK, Canada, India, Australia, etc.

Not to be confused with the Commonwealth of Independent States (Russian Commonwealth).

* * *

**Chapter 6: Chapter 5**

* * *

**_Chapter 5_ **

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

"Hey, Alfred."

Canada was once again sitting in that hospital room, the world silent around him, save for the steady beeping of the heart monitor, informing him that his brother was still alive.

Sometimes, he wondered if that was really a good thing.

"How's it been?" He chuckled drily. "Well, I guess that's not a very good question..."

A sigh.

"I wish..." He paused, then smiled grimly. "I would keep this a secret, but I guess you can't tell anyone, can you? I... Sometimes I wish you were back, you know? I miss having a brother. And... I can't do this alone. Not anymore."

For a few minutes, he didn't speak. Then-

"Alfred, I promised myself I'd watch over what's left of your country, but... I can't do it anymore. And, I'm not sure if you know..." Canada shook his head. "Well, I'd imagine you don't know, since I haven't been to visit you anytime recently, but the Republic of America still has no representation. I've even taken to wandering around the plains, in hope that I might spot a lonely child, but... there's nothing. It's almost as if... As if the representation is hiding..."

He sighed, tenderly brushing away a strand of hair from his twin's face, smiling slightly as Nantucket bobbed, almost as if expressing Alfred's appreciation of the gesture.

"I don't even know if I can call it Nantucket anymore..." he mused aloud.

Silence reigned for a few more minutes, as Canada focused on rearranging his twin's sheets and carefully tucking him back in to ensure comfort.

Suddenly, his hands stopped.

"Who's there?"

Nothing.

Then-

"Is that really him?"

A figure stepped into view, silhouetted against the door frame. "Is that really Union? How far we can fall..."

Canada almost fell out of his chair. "Confederacy?"

"Hello, Dominion."

"W-What are you doing here? I thought you disappeared after... well. You know."

"Is that what how you refer to Union's fall? As a "you know"? Not even a proper name?" The figure's - Confederacy's - words were harsh, clipped, his eyes ice cold.

Canada looked down.

The other's face immediately softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, Dominion."

"Actually... It's just Canada, now."

"Well, yes, I suppose we've all changed, haven't we?" His lips quirked up in a mockery of a smile, Confederacy bowed. "My apologies. I have not formally introduced myself. Republic of America, at your service."

"So it was you," Canada whispered.

"It was me," Confederacy - no, he was Republic now, Canada reminded himself - confirmed.

The northern nation set his lips in a firm line, looking back up to his newly rediscovered... _Is he my brother? Well, he was Alfred's, so he must be mine as well..._ "You haven't answered my question about how you got here."

Republic motioned to Alfred. "Looks like there are some things he never told you, though you've inadvertently copied him."

"No... It can't be."

"Yes. The only difference is, _I've_ been living as a normal citizen, while _you've_ kept him cooped up in a hospital and unconscious. Looks like this runs in the family, _eh_?"

Canada stood up in a rush, eyes narrowed. "Leave."

"And why should I?"

"You barge into my country without a word, accuse me of disrespecting my brother, criticize me for a decision that wasn't entirely mine, and now you won't leave when I tell you to?" Canada gave a bitter laugh. "Who do you think you are?"

"A brother."

Republic turned and walked to the door. Just before leaving, he turned and opened his mouth, as if to dictate something extremely important.

But "I'll be with Mexico if you need me" was all he said before he exited the room.

As soon as he was gone, Canada collapsed into his chair. The words "a brother" ran around and around his head.

Canada had seen the pain in Republic's eyes. Those eyes that were the exact same shade as Alfred's, the color of the endless skies across the open prairie, unmarred by pollution and noise and human activity.

It was as if they _were_ Alfred's eyes. As if they were speaking to him, asking, _Why, Mattie? Why did you do this to me?_

Canada closed his eyes and wept.

* * *

_Intermission: The War, Turning Point_

* * *

Months of fighting dragged into years, as the death count climbed ever higher.

At first, it seemed as if the United States was winning, claiming more and more territory and pushing back the opposing lines...

But it couldn't last.

If there was one thing history had taught them, it was that large territories would not - could not - stay together. All empires reach the point where one push will send them careening off the edge and crashing into the ground.

Some just fall faster - and farther - than others.

* * *

America reached that point much sooner than anyone else ever had.

His forces were stretched too thin, across multiple fronts, and with minimal support - frankly, the forces of America's African allies were just too small, not to mention the fact that the nations themselves were embroiled in civil war, to do much good. Add that to mounting tension in conquered Latin American regions, and Europe's increasingly desperate counterattacks... America simply didn't have the ability, the strength, the manpower, to pay so much attention to his northern border anymore.

And Canada exploited that. The invasion of Alaska was so terribly _easy_ , it would have been a waste not to strike. And strike Canada did.

The final push was given. Now, all that remained in question was how far a nation could fall.

_The higher they go, the harder they fall..._

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

Canada was uneasy.

He just didn't know why.

The meeting was going as well as it ever had; they were actually resolving issues.

_Maybe that's why_ , Canada thought. _Because we're actually getting things done, instead of just fighting about random things from hundreds of years ago._

But deep inside, he knew that wasn't true.

So what was it?

He looked around. There was Germany, chairing the meeting again. Italy and the other Mediterranean nations dozing. France and England glaring at each other. Central Europe whispering furiously amongst themselves. Russia and his sisters sitting quietly. Northern Europe, too, and Asia. The other nations were gathered in their respective huddles, doing who knows what.

The only ones missing were the representations of the other North American nations.

Apparently, Germany noticed too.

"Is Mexico late again?" he asked Canada.

"I... he never said anything to me. Maybe he got held up by something? You know how many things he and I have been doing to try to compensate for the lack of representative from the Republ-"

He cut of abruptly, eyes widening. "The Republic!"

"What?"

"The Republic of America. Me."

Everyone turned toward the voice. Republic stood in the doorway, a nervous Mexico hovering behind him.

The silence was finally broken by the Latin American nation. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine, Mexico."

Mexico nodded, skirting around the younger nation and taking a seat next to Latvia.

"Republic, I don't think they-" Canada started, trying to maintain a front of civility, but England suddenly cut in.

"You're dead!"

Republic smirked. "No, not quite. I'm not dead, in the same way America-"

The nations flinched at the mention of the name, but Republic's smirk just widened.

"-in the same way Alfred is not dead. Or, if you need a more familiar example, in the same way that Prussia is not dead."

All eyes turned to Prussia, who put his hands up in alarm. "Hey, don't look at me, I don't know anything!"

"Of course not." Republic's statement once again drew everyone's attention. "Why would Prussia know anything?"

"Then how do you know why you're still alive?"

"I don't." The representative of the ROA shrugged. "I simply am. Just like Prussia, and America."

Canada stiffened. "He is not America anymore. You know this; kindly refrain from referring to him as such. He is Alfred now."

Republic bowed his head mockingly. "Of course. Alfred it is. And America will become a distant memory, just like I once did."

He flashed a smile. "I must be off now. I've got to introduce myself to my boss. You know. Something _Alfred_ -" he shot a pointed glance at Canada- "won't do again. But that's alright, because we've all forgiven him. Right?"

And with a wink, he was gone.

* * *

Note: The American Civil War ended in 1865, with the Confederate States of America ceasing to exist. Canadian Confederation wasn't until the 1867 British North America Act. Therefore, the Confederacy would not have known Canada as "Dominion".

However, I've been wanting to write him saying "Hello, Dominion" since forever, so screw historical accuracy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 7: Chapter 6**

* * *

_**Chapter 6  
** _

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

"What's-your-name, aren't you going to see him today?"

"I... I don't know..." Canada sighed, scooping Kumajirou up into his arms. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And my name is Canada."

"Why not?"

"Why is my name not Canada...?"

"No, why aren't you going to visit."

Canada frowned. "I... really don't know. Should I?"

"He's your brother, and you wanted him near so you could visit him."

"Yeah, but..."

Kumajirou jumped down to the floor again. "This isn't like you. Even back when you and... hamburger man were allies and you were always in his shadow, you visited him regularly. Or he visited you. Or you went on trips together. Now he can't do it, so it's up to you."

"Kuma, it's been centuries since we went on a trip together. Politics tore us apart, and the war just drove the wedge even deeper."

"Well now it's perfect. Politics can't touch him, so it can't affect your relationship. Isn't that why you wanted him with you in the first place? Well, along with feeling guilty."

Canada was surprised. "Kuma, how did you-?"

"I've lived with you. For centuries. Of course I know." Kumajirou shrugged as best he could, and sat down with a plop.

Canada sighed, setting himself down gently on the couch. "Yeah, that's why. But now... I guess ever since the Republic came to that meeting, I've been feeling... unworthy. His words were harsh, Kuma. He made me feel like a horrible person."

"You are a horrible person."

Canada chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose so. Keeping Alfred in a hospital when he could be living his life as a normal human, acting as if I'm the one most harmed by this... Turning against my own brother, my twin, although he's just as much to blame for that as I am..."

"See? So go visit. You can just ignore that rude man from the south."

Canada smiled, patting Kumajirou on the head. "Alright, Kuma, I'll take your advice. Want to come?"

"OK."

* * *

"Hey, Alfred." Canada gently shut the door behind him, placing Kumajirou on the ground. The bear immediately scampered over to Canada's chair and plopped himself down.

"I brought Kuma today. He said he wanted to come." Canada removed his companion from his chair, sat down himself, then proceeded to hug the bear like a stuffed animal. Not that Kumajirou minded too much.

"The Republic came to a meeting the other day. He's barely changed at all, physically. He looks maybe a year older, but that's it. Pretty good for several centuries, huh?"

The northern nation absently patted his twin's hand. "Then again, we haven't changed at all... Still nineteen, even after all these years."

A sigh.

"Do you remember that time when England left us for a while, then came back to find us fully grown? He didn't know it then, but it was a sign that we were ready to be nations. Well, you were, at least. Perhaps I was too. I guess we'll never know. I can't very well return to that time and ask myself to rebel with you.

"I wish we were young again, Alfred. Not young, like in the 1800s, but _young_. Tiny, dependent colony young. I want someone to take care of me, to tell me what to do. I want someone else to be in charge, so that I can just focus on being me. I couldn't care less about the price of oil in Tajikistan! But I have to, because I'm a nation.

"I envy Sealand and the other micronations sometimes, you know? They complain about being denied the chance to become real nations, to decide things for themselves, to be recognized, but... they also have someone caring for them, always. They don't have to watch their backs, always on alert for someone's betrayal. They don't have to care about the state of the world. They don't have to suppress themselves for their people. Heck, they barely have any people.

"But I guess I don't really want that, either. I love being Canada. I love being everything my country _is_. I love the mountains, the lakes, the prairies... The cities and the farmlands, the suburbs, the citizens of every province and territory that is a part of me... I love them all, Alfred. Even the people I got from you. Even those rebel groups who fight on to this day, wanting to separate and become their own nation. And you probably loved them too. No, not loved. I know you love them, Alfred. I can feel it."

Canada sighed again. "And yet, they don't even know about us. Most of them never do, and sometimes I wonder if they really need a nation representative. What is the purpose of our love for them? It'll never affect their lives.

"Is our existence really worth it?"

* * *

_Intermission: Toward the End  
_

* * *

"Surrender now!"

"Ha! You really think I would do that?" America spit on the ground by Canada's feet.

The northern brother frowned. "America, you're coughing up blood. There is no way you will win this, and your body knows it. Surrender now, and you can spare yourself the pain."

"No."

"Why are you always so stubborn?"

"You'd never understand, Canada," America sneered. "You've never had the world on your shoulders."

"That shouldn't matter! America, I know you want peace. Please, we can stop the pain, stop the suffering, if only you would just surrender-"

"That won't bring peace, don't you see? The pain is nothing. The suffering means nothing... If it's for the good of the world... The only way to bring peace is for me to keep fighting... For me to keep on... keep..."

The southern nation fainted at his brother's feet.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

Canada didn't go to the world meeting that day.

_"New message. Thursday, 9:30am: Canada, this is Germany. Where are you? You're over half an hour late. Please come at once." *_ BEEP*

_"New message. Thursday, 9:45am: Canada, the world is growing uneasy. You've never missed a meeting before. Even the bloody frog is quiet. I don't know where you are, but come as soon as possible."_ *BEEP*

_"New message. Thursday, 10:00am: Ve, Canada? Germany is getting really really worried and well... so is everyone else and I made pasta so please come?"_ *BEEP*

_"New message. Thursday, 10:10am: Canada, you're worrying me. Are you hurt? Is something the matter with your country? Answer me, s'il vous plaît!"_ *BEEP*

_"New message. Thursday, 10:20am: Canada, you have to come-"_

_"New message: Canada, please-"_

_"New message: Canada-"_

_"Canada-"_

_"Canada-"_

_"Canada-"_

Canada removed the battery from his phone, fed Kumajirou, and went to bed.

* * *

_End Chapter 6  
_

* * *

Note: There will be a point of view change in the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Chapter 7**

* * *

**_Chapter_ ** **7**

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

The silence around him was deafening.

He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he was hot - no, cold, freezing, _burning_ in the ice of fear, of fear of the unknown, of the void, of the end...

He was so terribly afraid, he could feel his life slipping away, and oh God, was it his imagination, or was he drowning in his blood, but he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't hear anything, he couldn't tell if he was still alive, he was _dying_...

And yet.

He felt so warm, so loved, so comforted... The air softly embraced him as he fell, the eternity of a second bringing him so much joy...

It was the peace he'd always wanted. It was the miracle he never thought possible. It was the wish he'd never known he made.

His happiness lasted only an instant.

But that instant was infinity.

* * *

_Intermission: To Begin Again  
_

* * *

"-merica. America. America, wake up."

_Nooo I don't wanna. I'm sleeeeeeeeepyyyyyy..._

"America. Wake up."

_Ugh, go away bro, I wanna sleep in._

"AMERICA!"

_Chill, dude, we were up until 3 am last night watching movies! How are you even awake... Nngh...  
_

"America."

_Huh...? That's Iggy's voice... Why's he at my house?_

"Amerika, you cannot hide from us."

_Germany too...? What's- wait._

America suddenly sat up.

Or, at least, he tried.

"...?"

"Safety precaution. We can't have you running around destroying things," Canada informed him, fingering the restraints that kept him anchored to the (rather uncomfortable) hospital bed. "Your trial is in a few days, so you'll be let out then. You've lost the war, America."

_The war._

Canada kept talking, but America wasn't listening anymore.

_The war._

Images of bloody battles filled his mind, stretching back centuries to the date of his birth.

_Destroy._

Generations flashed by his eyes, each reaching out, out, out, for the peace that wasn't to be...

_You've..._

He had failed. _He had failed_. He had one mission, one goal... But really, what did he expect? It was inevitable.

_Lost..._

His hopeless naivete, his unbreakable optimism, that American Dream he liked to think everyone was so _envious_ of...

_The war._

It was all a lie, wasn't it? Peace was a lie.

_The war is over._

"-merica? AMERICA!" The panicked voices couldn't reach him anymore.

_The war is finally over._

America allowed himself to sink into the darkness.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

It felt like it always did. The sharp smell of antiseptic, the quiet atmosphere, the steady beeping of the machines...

Canada could almost believe it was normal.

Quietly, he pulled out the chair. The clock on the wall showed 11:30 pm.

It was the night of July 3rd.

No one in sight.

Perfect.

"Hey Al. The guests should be waking up around now. I made sure to program the doses correctly. I also left some antidote on the kitchen counter; I'm sure someone will find it.

"It takes exactly 8.5 minutes to get here from my house going at legal speeds and under normal road conditions. I've measured. That means it should take them around 5 minutes to get here. So the call is set to be made at 11:55.

"Kumajirou has been entrusted to Finland and Sweden. He'll have Sealand to play with, as well as Hanatamago, so he should be fine. Ukraine doesn't know it yet, but she has the rest of my will. I gave it to her a few days ago, told her to keep it closed until the time was right. I'm sure she'll know the time is soon.

"I said goodbye to everyone for us. Of course they don't know what it means, but they will. Everything is set. We're the last piece, brother."

Canada carefully disconnected all of the beeping, whirring machinery from their power sources.

Then he waited.

* * *

He woke up slowly, feeling the layers of heavy darkness forced upon him by the drugs lift away. His eyes fluttered open to find Canada staring back at him.

"Hey," he greeted hoarsely; how long had it been since he'd last spoken? His vocal chords were numb from disuse.

His twin smiled. "Hey yourself."

He pushed himself into a sitting position, grimacing at his apparent weakness. Just how long was he out for?

"A few years."

"Ah."

He didn't question how his brother knew his thoughts. He didn't need to. He knew.

They sat in silence for a while.

Then Canada handed him a gun.

He raised his eyebrows.

His brother shrugged, motioned to his own weapon. "By the way, it's almost your birthday."

"Happy birthday to me, then."

"Happy birthday, Al."

They pulled the trigger at the exact same moment.

A loud bang, a flash of pain, then...

The silence around him was deafening.

* * *

_End Chapter 7_

* * *

Note: Short chapter is short. It's also the second to last one.

Warning: Next chapter has some cursing.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Chapter 8**

* * *

_**Chapter** **8** **  
**_

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

Canada watches silently as his brother stirs, rubbing his eyes groggily as if awakening from a long, deep sleep.

Well, that isn't actually too far from the truth.

"Hey," comes a quiet, raspy greeting.

"Hey yourself," Canada responds.

He watches as his brother frowns, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"A few years," he says, answering the question before it is even voiced.

"Ah."

They sit in silence for a while.

Then Canada hands his brother one of the twin weapons he had brought specifically for this occasion.

Said brother raises his eyebrows.

He shrugs, waving his own gun. "By the way, it's almost your birthday."

"Happy birthday to me, then."

"Happy birthday, Al."

He dimly registers the sound of his fellow nations, their panicked voices drawing closer, but it was too late now.

They pull the trigger at the exact same moment.

Time slows to a crawl, and Canada watches with morbid curiosity as his twin's bullet draws ever closer while his own steadily departs.

He watches as it pierces his skin, right into the heart, and _wow, Al's aim hasn't gotten any worse, in spite of years of immobility...  
_

He feels the pain, yes, that bright spark of force that shoots through his body and jerks him out of his chair, but he doesn't _feel_ it.

The clock strikes twelve.

The twins die with identical smiles.

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

"They're going to shoot!"

"What?"

"Run faster!"

"Stop them!

"Canada! America!"

"NO, DON'T-"

The gunshot booms through the room just as they burst in.

"DON'T... don't... no... you can't die..."

"Scheisse!"

"Canada! Wake up, dammit! America!"

"They... they can't die, right? They're nations, right? And nations can't die...? Right...?"

"There's no pulse..."

"No... NO NO NO GOD DAMN IT NO!"

Silence, broken only by sobbing.

Then...

"... What have we done?"

* * *

_End Chapter 8_

* * *

Note: Sorry it was short again. Epilogue is next.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Epilogue**

* * *

Author's Note: I FINALLY GET TO DO THIS AGAIN! MY SELF-IMPOSED A/N BAN IS OVER! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Ahem. Anyways. I... actually don't have anything to say... wow. :/

But uh yeah, here, have an epilogue that completely turns the entire story on its head. Kinda. Not really.

You'll see.

* * *

**_Epilogue_ **

* * *

_Part One_

* * *

"England! Play with us!"

England looks down, seeing the twins smiling up at him.

He can't resist smiling back.

"Not right now, OK? I have some work to do," England says, patting them both on the head.

"Aw... All you ever do is work!"

"Well, Al, it's hard to run a country." England leans down slightly to match the young nation's height. "Besides, don't you and Matt have work to do too?"

"We did it already!" Matt protests. "So we want to play now!"

"Maybe tomorrow. Today is..." England trails off as he remembers what day it is. "Today is... special."

The children seem to understand, and they walk away, leaving England to his thoughts.

It's the anniversary of the deaths of Alfred and Matthew. America and Canada. The countries that had fallen into turmoil, the lands that had been torn to pieces, the nations that had lived so little.

Who would have thought that they, the youngest of them all, would be the first to fall?

It was uncanny how similar the new twins were to the old ones. Al and Matt, named for their predecessors, were in almost all respects exactly the same as Alfred and Matthew, the only differences being some small personality quirks and, of course, experience and age.

Or so they thought.

* * *

_Intermission: Rebuilding the Past_

* * *

"Merde!"

France slams his fist into the wall, tears streaming from his eyes. Beside him, England is cradling the bodies of America and Canada to his chest, sobbing.

Other nations stand around the room; Germany, gently comforting a teary Italy; Russia, his smile for once gone, with his arms around Ukraine; China and Japan, their faces blank but sorrowful, eyes empty yet weary...

"We drove them to this," Japan says in a toneless voice. "We did this."

Germany glares at him as England and Italy both start wailing.

"It's true." Russia. "If we hadn't... If we hadn't placed so much stress on Canada, if we hadn't insisted America be punished so..."

"How were we supposed to know!" England bursts out. He his breathing is heavy, uneven. "How were we supposed to predict that they would... That they..."

His face crumples in pain, and France moves hastily to catch him before he falls. "Mon ami..."

"Oh god... What have we done?"

* * *

"Canada's not doing so well, is it, Republic?"

Republic looks up at England. "No. The country will probably fall soon. There's too much instability from within."

"I feared as much... Keep an eye out for any new nations, will you?"

"Of course."

* * *

_Rebellion Successfully Overthrows Canadian Government, New "Concordia" Established_

France sets down his papers and looks out the window. The sound of the birds chirping outside his countryside home, the crisp air rushing through the window, all of it reminds him of the young colony he once raised.

"Mon cher, it's been so long..."

He wonders how long it will be until the new nation emerges.

* * *

"I have someone I'd like you to meet." Republic's first words as he steps up to the podium for the first time in years. He turns to the doors at the end of the meeting hall. "You can come in now."

The doors creak open, and a small hand appears, followed by the top of a head, then another, and the nations collectively gasp.

The young children at the door are exactly the same as the ones who fell decades ago.

Curious but shy, the two stick close to each other as they make their way over to their mentor. Republic takes their hands.

"Everyone, meet Matt and Alex. North and South Concordia."

* * *

"England?"

"Yes, Alfre- I mean, Alex?"

"Me and Matt wanna go play!"

"Matt and I, Al. It's Matt and I."

* * *

"Matthieu! It is time for dinner!"

"Who is 'Matthieu'?"

"Ah... You, mon cher. It's a French version of your name."

Matt giggles. "But I'm Matt!"

"Yes... of course you are."

* * *

"Time to go home, boys."

"Aw! But I wanna play with England and France more!"

"Yeah, me too!"

Republic smiles indulgently at them. "Sorry, but not today. It's close to time for bed. You can come back tomorrow after your work is finished."

"Promise?" the two ask in unison.

"Promise."

* * *

_"... Mattie?"_

_"Yeah, Al?"_

_"Let's promise to be together forever and ever, OK?"_

_"Yeah. Forever and ever and ever."_

* * *

_Part Two_

* * *

"Maaaaaaaaaatt!" Alex jumps on his brother from behind, causing the northern nation to stumble.

"Ow! Al, don't do that!" Matt pushes his brother off. "Besides... This isn't the time for fooling around."

The twins unconsciously grip each other's hands as they gaze toward the clearing before them.

An ancient tree shades the area, emerald green light filtering through the thousands of leaves. In an unknown direction, a creek bubbles happily. The gentle wind caresses the blades of grass, rolling like waves. Birds sing in the branches, ants crawl the trunk, the occasional squirrel scampers up or down... It is a realm full of life.

And it is Alfred and Matthew's final resting place.

"I thought it would be a sad thing, going to your own grave," Matthew comments, shedding the facade of innocent young nation for a moment, finally letting himself relax into the weariness of holding up the world.

"Apparently not so," Alfred responds. His clear blue eyes hold traces of the true horror he had seen in another time, another life. "It's not really ours, anyways. We're not us."

"No..." The look in the northern twin's eyes is distant. "We're not America and Canada anymore, are we? We're not them. We're Concordia."

The southern brother laughs. "Concordia. A land of peace." He shakes his head. "They could have at least been more creative with naming us."

"They want peace."

"It won't happen."

"They know that as well as you and I. But they can dream, can't they? They can hope."

"Hopes and dreams were my downfall. What's to say it won't be theirs?"

"Not your downfall. Not anymore."

"No, I suppose not. Matt?"

The northern nation turns. "Yeah?"

"Why do we still remember our past lives? We died. Alfred and Matthew died. So why do we still feel like them?"

"I don't know, Al."

"Do you think we'll ever meet them again?"

"... I don't know. Do we even need to meet them again? We are them."

"But we aren't. We're just their shells."

"Maybe."

"Sometimes... sometimes I wish we hadn't been reborn with memories of our previous lives."

"But then we would have to relearn how to deal with being nations... We would have to experience that sorrow again. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"No, I suppose not. I just wonder why we were given a second chance."

"Maybe it's not a second chance. Maybe it's punishment for our crimes. For the things we did to each other and the world in the last war. Maybe it's fate forcing us to keep living when we could have had an end to our endless lives, just to spite us and torture us."

"Hah. Yeah. That could be it. But I'd rather believe it's a second chance, to right some of the wrongs we've committed."

"That's wishful thinking. But... I'd like to believe that too."

A long pause, then:

"Matt?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"Do the promises from before still stand?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't they?"

"So... We'll be together forever, right? Forever and ever and ever?"

"... Yeah. Forever and ever and ever."

The brothers sit down, leaning on each other, eyes on the sunset-painted horizon.

They sit there a long time.

* * *

_"I thought it would be a sad thing, dying. I thought it would be cold, dark... I thought it would be terribly lonely._

_"But now I realize you are right here with me, and I rejoice. Now I know that we will be together for eternity, and I can truly live."_

_"I thought it would be a happy thing, rebirth. I thought it would be miraculous, wonderful... I thought it would be so very warm._

_"But now I realize that we are not who we were, and I weep. Now I know that we cannot return to what once was, and I wish for the oblivion of death."_

_"If we are to die alone, I want to hold your hand until the end. If we cannot be who we were, I would rather become a lingering afterthought with you. Though I yearn to truly live, I wish for the peace of death.  
_

_"I - no, we - have become memory, buried in the endless ocean of the past. Yet we are still alive. We are still here. We are still..."  
_

_"If we must survive to see another day, then let us live. Let us create a new memory, different from the one we have become. Let us fulfill the dreams we never got a chance to realize, let us see the hopes we've always held become reality. Though there are no such things as second chances... Let us believe. Let us believe we can change the world."  
_

_"Our legacy was cut short, our infinity truncated. We were orphaned by the unstoppable plodding of time. We were forgotten in the void of oblivion. We were left in the dust of inevitability. All we had left was a sliver of our shattered existences._

_"So, together, let us create a shining future to replace it."_

_"Let us repair our fractured eternity."  
_

_"Until then..."_

* * *

In the middle of a forest, a young blond and his twin brother lay a single zinnia blossom at the base of a tree.

"Until we meet again..."

* * *

_"... Please..."_

* * *

**_End_ **

* * *

A/N: Zinnias, specifically yellow ones, can mean remembrance for someone who's absent. I could also have used dead leaves, which symbolize sadness, but... yeah.

I've always liked the idea of writing about someone dying, but not actually dying... At first, my idea was to make it so that America and Canada hadn't actually fully died, but everyone had thought they did, and for some reason they became young again upon revival, but the idea was too complicated to get across without outright stating it, so yeah... This happened.

Hope you liked it!


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